


Interlude

by Molly



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Time, M/M, Purple!purple!purple!, Schmoop, Slash, omg! i can't believe i wrote this, sentinel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-19
Updated: 2008-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly/pseuds/Molly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>In which a pleasant evening by the fire becomes suddenly a great deal more pleasant than Jim or Blair expected. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> I was VERY YOUNG! AT THE TIME!

Firelight and shadow.

Sweet music, and lengthening silences.

Conversation waxed and waned, eyes sliding away from contact, the words more a barrier than the spaces in between. Crazy, reckless tension grew between them, spiralling toward passion, mere heartbeats away from consummation.

"What is this?" Jim's voice was quiet, steady, barely a whisper. The Sentinel, as always, turning to his Guide for direction.

"Intense." The Guide, as always, finding the right answer for the wrong question. Blair smiled, watching his friend's shadow where it loomed on the far wall, almost merging with his own.

"The sofa is small for two," Jim said.

The words were an invitation; Blair's movement an acceptance. In moments they faced one another in the flickering light of the fire, legs folded beneath them, knees almost touching. Blue eyes finding blue, weaving a silent thread of confirmation between them.

"This is what you want?" A necessary formality, Blair's question hung between them, the point of decision for a foregone conclusion.

Jim touched Blair's hand, fingers tracing a light pattern over soft skin, eyes never leaving those of his Guide. His reply was a hoarse whisper, drawn out from a fractured breath. "Show me what I want...?"

Reciprocal contact, Blair's response nothing if not direct, hand claiming the nape of Jim's neck and drawing them both up to their knees. Radiant heat from the fire and willing bodies mingled in the handsbreadth between them, filling a long moment with the timeless struggle for self-control. Blair's hand tightened, then gentled against the fine hairs at the base of his Sentinel's skull, his fingertips ghosting over sensitive skin. Jim's breathing became ragged, loud in the stillness, and Blair fought back a dizzying need to taste his friend's parted lips.

Jim's world narrowed to sound and touch, eyes closed in self-defense. Firelight made Blair dangerous, caressed his skin with gold and ambered the long fall of his hair. Jim knew his limits, and refused to be lured beyond them. It was enough that the easy glide of fingertips against his skin drew liquid fire from his core and sent it back in a rush of heat and desire. The caress drifted from throat to jawline, tracing over clean-shaven cheekbones, mapping his features and branding them with feather-light touches.

And then the fingers found his lips.

The low sound of desire wrenched from Jim's throat was the beginning of the end for Blair. He steadied himself against his partner's shoulder, falling into Jim's heat as his fingertips were nipped gently, then tasted. Strong arms came around him, pulled him in, claimed him. Control slipped, became a distant memory, a myth, need rising to fill the void it left behind.

"God, Jim..."

"Shhh...."

The Sentinel stilled his Guide's mouth with his own.

  
   


* * *

  
   


Fingers skated over buttons, pushing clothing aside, nothing tentative now about the caresses lavished over skin burnished gold from the fire. The first kiss lingered, lips and teeth and tongues teasing...binding. Breath mingled, soft exhalations: half-understood offers, requests, rough-voiced pleas for speed and patience. Instinct overrode inexperience, easy explorations mapping touch to response, returning again and again to points of heightened pleasure...

...Until Jim's hand moved between them and found his partner's rigid length, drawing a harsh moan that shattered both of them.

"Please..."

"Yes."

Incoherent with need, focused solely on touch, Blair didn't know he was moving until he felt the carpet beneath his shoulder blades and the cautious weight of his partner settling over him. Teeth scraped over the tender skin of his throat, and he pressed his body up, arching into Jim's. Desire flooded through him, a steady pulse centering in his groin and radiating outward, building...

Firm hands at his hips gentled him, pressed him down into the carpet; Blair moaned with the loss of contact, straining against his partner's hands, craving touch, friction, heat.

Jim held himself still, Blair's need filling his senses: Blue eyes dark with it; voice thrumming with it; skin slick with it...scents and tastes and textures robbing the Sentinel of his last hope of restraint... "Easy..." he whispered, a warning to both of them, heeded by neither.

"Too late for that," Blair answered, his voice remarkably calm.

And the tables turned.

  
   


* * *

  
   


Surprised laughter as Jim found himself pinned against the floor, his Guide grinning down at him, wicked triumph in his eyes. Blair took advantage, his tongue slipping easily into the open mouth, teasing, by turns gentle and savage as his body moved slowly, his erection stroking against Jim's with each shift of hips and thighs...until he slipped lower...

...teeth nipping at the juncture of shoulder and throat, tongue soothing in its wake...

"You asked me to show you..."

"Mmhmmm..."

...and lower... fingers skating down, stroking over hardening nipples, coaxing them to pleasure...

"...you seem to like this..."

"Blair..."

...even lower, tongue finding the nubs his fingers left behind, circling,suckling...and easing further down the body, hands pressing knees apart, settling between them, trailing soft bites and gentle lavings over ribs and abdomen, salty skin a pleasant forerunner...

A whisper: "...and this, Jim? Is this what you want...?"

"God, Blair, if you don't shut up..."

Voice breaking on a gasp of surprise, feeling the rumblings of a chuckle against his length as Blair engulfed him, warm lips gliding over him, tongue stroking him to the edge of endurance. The barest hint of teeth, soothing velvet of lips, each pressure burning into him and turning the play into a frantic reach for control...

...finding it, barely, almost too late as he pushed Blair away, the younger man protesting only a moment as he was turned onto his side, cradled in his partner's arms.

"Now...?"

"_Yes_."

Jim pressed a kiss of promise into Blair's shoulder, probing gently with slick fingers, shuddering in sympathy with his partner's ragged, gasping response...preparing the way, slow and careful, until the gasps turned to near-sobs of need and there was no control left for either of them.

Blair cried out as Jim pressed forward, pleasure so swift and strong it was almost pain driving him past restraint.

"Did I--?"

"No! God...just don't stop..."

And he didn't, couldn't, the tight heat surrounding him an irresistible lure; thrusts were offered and met, wicked rhythm set and matched. Jim's hand crested over Blair's hip, found his shaft, stroked, feeling the damp precursor of release like silk over satin skin.

There was nothing in Blair's world but the rush toward completion, everything else fading to darkness. His focus narrowed to the glide of his partner's cock within him, a rapid cycle of loss and recovery...and the hand moving over his own shaft in perfect counterpoint, destroying thought, banishing reason. Blair moved, hips bucking forward and stroking back, each shift a step away from sanity as the tension increased, crested, broke...

...and became white-hot pleasure, waves crashing through him, a shout joy wrenched from breathlessness as his body clenched, pulsing liquid release over the hand that held him...

...held him, then moved, suddenly, fingers digging into his hip as Jim's head arched back and his hips forward. The sudden, convulsive squeeze of the muscles gripping his shaft overrode control; he thrust into Blair's body again, and again, the height of ecstasy lengthening to the point of pain... before shattering suddenly as he came, hard and shuddering, a sob of relief torn from his throat as he followed his lover the edge of release.

  
   


* * *

  
   


Glowing embers, faintest memory of fire.

Breath of a lover, slow and even, sweeter than music.

"Still with me?"

"Mmm...yeah...just barely, Jim."

The Sentinel felt the curve of lips against his skin. "Something funny?"

"Yeah." Blair laughed, deep and sweet. "I'm glad we didn't go to the game."

Jim shifted as if to rise.... "I wonder what the final score--?"

...and found himself pinned, deep blue eyes shining down on him with amusement and challenge.

"You are _so_ not moving. Don't even think about it." Blair's arms tightened around his middle, both threat and reward.

Jim settled back, grinning, and trailed a hand over his Guide's shoulder, his neck, lingering to stroke through long, dark curls. A sigh of relaxation feathered over his skin. "Like that?"

"What do you think?"

"I would guess...no." Laughter rumbled, and the hand stilled, pulled back...

...before returning suddenly, the teeth clamped gently but threateningly over his nipple extremely motivational.

"Much better," Blair said softly. And sighed: "I could get used to this." There was something in his voice, the slightest hint of...insecurity? Longing?

Jim tightened his hold on the younger man, drawing him closer. Tilting his chin up for a light, chaste kiss.

"Good," Jim said, his tone a promise. "You're going to have to."

Together, Sentinel and Guide drifted into the warm, dark harbor of sleep.


End file.
